The journey goes on - 11

A new chapter at long last - don't worry, the story won't be abandoned, I just don't have much time on the internet anymore. I hope'll you enjoy the chapter :)

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

A week after Harry and Ginny had left Esgaroth, the weather started to become less welcoming. The mornings grew misty and damp, and the evenings windy and cold. During the day, unpleasant rains increased in frequency, but after Harry had learned how to charm fire waterproof, the bone-chilling moisture became more or less bearable. Harry found, that he was either a very good pupil, or Ginny a very good teacher. It was probably a combination of both, judging by the impressive progress Harry made. It was almost like his magic had just been waiting for a chance to finally get out and do something more than what it was used for on a daily basis. Harry found, how letting different amounts of magic into a spell, affected both his own body, mind and magic, as well as the result of said spell. He learned how the intended transformation is directly influenced by bodyweight, viciousness, wandpower, concentration and an unknown variable Z. He watched Ginny's attempts at potions, and learned about Golpalotts's laws of potion making, Gamp's laws of transfiguration and quite a lot about the importance of destination, determination and deliberation. However, he didn't just learn magic. He also taught his skills.

Ginny had told him repeatedly how she knew muggle fighting - as she called it - but after a quick demonstration and a lot of bruises, she agreed that fists and a dagger – or seax - might not be a match for swords, battle axes and war hammers. She had developed most of the muscles she'd need most in a fight quite nicely, so what he needed to teach her now were technique, strategy and how to best handle a weapon. The only problem was, that they didn't have that many weapons with them. He couldn't give up his own two-handed longsword, and the seax he had given her back at the palace was not enough. He vowed to have a good weapon forged for Ginny, when they would arrive in Edhellond.

It was the twelfth night on their journey when they reached the last trees at the end of Mirkwood. They would continue their way towards the River Anduin the next morning. Usually, the distance they had walked would have taken them about eight days, but with both of them trying to learn the other's skills as much as possible, they took some more time.

This evening however, the two travellers had no intention on practicing their expertise in warfare. Both of them were trying to be as quiet as possible. They hadn't even started a fire. Back to back, they sat on a dry spot of leaves under a wide oak-tree. After losing a game of 'stone, cloak, wand', he was forced to take the first watch until it was time to wake Ginny. He still had to wait about two hours before he could go to sleep, but he honestly didn't mind – he would probably stay awake anyway. The air around them was charged with energy. They had sensed it for days. Now, the density of the power in the air was at its peak. Nearly tangible, a presence that had every nerve in his body tingling and his magical core in a turmoil. He had never felt as much dark magic concentrated in one place – and they weren't even that close to Dol Guldur.

Harry was tense. Tense and alert, ready to fight and kill at the slightest movement in his environment. He flinched accordingly, when suddenly Ginny turned to look at him.

"I thought you were asleep!" he whispered quietly, with as much force as he could muster. Ginny shrugged and nodded at the same time.

"I can't. There's too much… I don't know what, but it makes me uneasy and I can't fall asleep." She answered in a low voice. There was a short silence.

"I know what you mean."

"Then it really doesn't make sense for us to try and rest here."

"We could always continue our journey."

"That's the best thing you said this evening. Let's go."

It didn't take them long to get their things, as neither of them had bothered to unpack anything. They started walking in silence, still trying to make as little noise as possible. It wasn't a relaxed or enjoyable silence. It was the kind of muteness that threatened to suffocate you. Up until now, there had never been this much tension on their journey, but Harry was not as comfortable as he usually was with tension in a dangerous situation. Particularly since he didn't really know what was so threatening about this place. There may have been a lot of dark magic in the air, but he had no idea how old it was. This black energy could have resulted from an event that happened eons ago. Harry shook his head. He was probably overreacting. A quick glance at Ginny however showed him, that from under her long red waves of hair, her eyes warily surveyed their environment. She seemed just as jumpy and anxious as him. Finally, the tension was too much to bear, and very quietly, he whispered:

"Ginny, tell me again, who did the strange woman we met just outside Esgaroth look like?"

She threw him a questioning look, turned her head and quickly scanned her surroundings.

"She's a figure from Norse mythology. Goddess of Death, I think. I don't remember much more, but I still have no clue what she's supposed to do here. In middle earth, Norse mythology doesn't even exist!"

Desperate to keep up their conversation, and to not fall into excruciating silence again, Harry continued.

"Yes, but in some way, every culture has the concept of a deity ruling over their dead. So, maybe you are confusing her with some kind of entity originating in Arda."

"Interesting Concept." said someone behind them.

Harry's heart nearly gave out as he turned to see who had spoken. He sensed Ginny next to him do the same thing. Both of their eyes fell onto the owner of the voice simultaneously. It was a woman, but instead of arms, she had wings. By the looks of the feathers, Harry guessed she was supposed to look like some kind of kite. She had an oriental look to her, with heavily painted eyes and colourful, airy robes.

"Hello. I would recommend not going in that direction, just in case you want to live."

She pointed west, towards a group of trees Ginny and him had been walking towards. A smile revealed pearly white, perfectly orderly teeth. Hesitantly, Harry took a step towards the out-of-place looking woman.

"Hel?"

Her head snapped around, and she pinned him down with her eyes.

"Hel spoke to you. I wonder if you can guess who this is."

She turned to look at Ginny.

"Just one clue: My reign begins, but has no end, for it ends all that begins."

With a strong gust of wind she was gone. Ginny looked at Harry questioningly.

"I was never good at riddles. Do you know what she meant?"

"The riddle is ridiculously easy. Naturally, the answer is Death. We know that Hel was a deity in connection to death… Maybe this was another one of those gods and goddesses. From the sound of what you told me, the many peoples of your earth worship a multitude of deities."

Ginny half shook her head, half nodded.

"When you say it like that, it sounds plausible, but didn't she strike you as odd? I found her whole manner very similar to Hel's. Her gestures, how she moved her facial expressions. Also, the way she vanished, was just like that one time you grabbed Hel's arm. She looked like sand all of the sudden."

"What strikes me as curious, is that Hel did not disappear like that, when I did not grab her arm. Neither of us touched this being, so why would she vanish that way? What's the reason for such a dramatic exit?"

Ginny looked just as clueless as he felt. He mentally shook his head, and elected to change the subject.

"To a more pressing concern: Will we heed her warning and not continue our path to the river, or will we follow the way we chose for ourselves."

An uncomfortable expression came onto his companion's face. Now that the excitement about the appearance of the goddess was gone, they once again felt the dark, threatening atmosphere with full force.

"I feel like we should take every warning we can get. I don't like this place, and if someone, who clearly knows more than we do, tells us not to go somewhere, then we should probably do just that and not go there."

Harry nodded, not entirely convinced, and eyed the small group of trees ahead of them. It would be a lot more challenging to navigate on empty wasteland instead of just walking along the edge of the woods. It may have sounded easy, but walking a straight line without a proper orientation-point was hard. It would be much easier to just continue the way they had chosen beforehand.

"You know, I have an idea. Your animal – what was it called again? – your Animagus form, is perfectly equipped to hide in this grassland around us, and will probably be able to hide in the forest as well. You could go and see what she warned us about. That way, we would not endanger ourselves more than necessary, and we would not have to blindly trust that odd stranger."

Ginny seemed torn, her eyes betrayed her worry.

"It's not that I don't think that's a brilliant idea and all, but when a deity warns you not to go somewhere, it's probably better to listen, don't you think?"

"Since when are you inclined to listen to anyone but yourself?"

The corner of her mouth twitched, softly, as if she had to hold back a smile, and she shrugged.

"Okay. I guess you're right. But in the name of Merlin's blue underpants, if something happens to me, I'll haunt you for the rest of your pitiful existence."

She winked and gave him a weak smile before he saw her bone-structure shifting, her hair retreating, and fur growing out of her skin and clothes. Once she was wholly transformed, nothing but a small spot of reddish fur on her head and the freckle-like spots across her face, reminded of her once human appearance. Intelligent brown eyes found Harry's, and seemed to say "Wait here!", then the feline turned and made her way through the high and yellowish grass.

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

The rush of excitement that always accompanied the transformation into a leopard would have made her laugh out loud if she had still been human. New smells and new sounds invaded her senses, and as soon as her eyes had adjusted to the dark of the night, she could see so much more. She could hear at least five different mice, and a few more rabbits moving about in the dry grass around her, if she looked closely, she could even see glimpses of their furry little bodies. The dark magical aura she had felt with full force just moments ago, felt now muffled, as her magic was nearly inaccessible to her while she was transformed. With one last glance back at Harry, she practically glided through the grass. The animal in her was in its element. Fast, and without making a sound, she neared the small group of trees that had to be one of the strongest sources of dark magic she'd ever seen – and she'd been face to face Bellatrix Lestrange. She shuddered slightly, and pushed that though far away from her consciousness, before concentrating on the matter at hand.

Only minutes later, she reached the bushes surrounding the trees. All senses alert as they'd never been before, adrenaline pumping through her veins like her life depended on it and more afraid that she would've liked to admit, she slowly crept forward. She didn't smell or see anything out of the ordinary, neither did the air taste unnatural or dangerous. The only indicators that something was off, were her sudden urge to hide herself, far away from these trees, the fact that the fur on the back of her neck stood on ends, and the peculiar things she could hear. The hooves of a slightly nervous, but from the sound of it rather huge horse, and an odd sort of sniffing. Just a moment later, her snout broke through the undergrowth, and she was faced with a small clearing. Her feline eyes went wide at what she saw. There was a rider, a silhouette like a man, clad in a long black cloak, sat on a large, black horse. The Thing was tall, its face hidden in the shadows of a hood. It sat there, unmoving, its head bowed, and the sniffing seemed to come from it.

Could the creature smell her?

As if the figure heard her thought, its head abruptly turned towards the bushes where she was hiding. Paralyzed with a sudden wave of terror, she was unable to hide from the Thing's gaze. Its face remained shadowy and invisible to her eyes, and with all her heart she hoped, that the Thing would somehow not see her. She felt as if an icy hand had grabbed hold of her, when she could physically feel the creature's eyes on her. The gelid fingers of fear threatened to choke her. She was sure she wouldn't live to see the next sunrise.

It was over a split of a second later.

The thing once again bowed its head, unaware of her presence. Ginny stared, heart racing, and did not dare move even a single muscle. Slowly, very slowly, the terror that had kept her firmly in place started to ebb off, morphing into the strong urge to run and hide she'd felt earlier. It took her possibly more will-power to resist this urge and mindlessly rush off at the highest speed she could manage, than it had taken to keep from crying out under the Cruciatus curse. Every single one of her instincts was screaming at her to flee. Quietly slinking back into the shadows seemed to take a whole eternity, and when she finally reached Harry, she was so emotionally drained, she could have fallen asleep right here and then, but adrenaline and fear kept her wide alert. Her voice was a barely understandable whisper when she changed back, and she once again felt the full concentration of dark magic filling the air around her. Her hands trembled.

"We have to get away from here. Now."

Her companion seemed to read the emotions that played on her face like an open book, even though he displayed none. With an unreadable expression he took both of their backpacks and set off in a fast pace. Had her head been clear and not befuddled with fear, stress and weariness, she'd have complained and asked if he thought she was too weak to carry her own bag, but the thought didn't even reach through the haze of thoughts that seemed to have wrapped itself around her consciousness.

'Flee. Run. Far away. Away from here. Fast.' chanted a voice in her head, like a calming mantra, though it did nothing to calm her down.

She seemed to run completely on Auto-pilot. She had no idea how much time passed until the sun went up again. All the way she could've sworn she heard hooves galloping behind them, or someone sniffing down her neck, but when she turned around, she saw nothing but grassland and a few trees in the distance. Harry didn't seem to notice her paranoia, or the sounds she heard, and he usually had sharper senses out of the two of them, so she trusted his ability to sense potential danger. It was nearly noon when Harry stopped and she nearly bumped into him, too exhausted to notice.

"This is the great river Anduin. We have successfully left the brown lands behind us now."

Ginny looked up, and indeed: there was a wide, shallow and rocky river in front of them. She was too tired to take notice of the beautiful scenery. Birds were singing on some of the few trees on the other side of the water, a handful of frogs and crickets softly sang their songs in the background.

"Can we drink from it?"

The two of them made their way down to the waterside. The pebbles felt odd under her feet, after the many hours of walking through high grass. When she felt she'd drunk enough to satisfy her thirst for the time being, she turned to her companion.

"I'd say we take a break here. It's quiet and peaceful as far as I can see."

Harry nodded and handed her the backpack he'd somehow ended up carrying. She was too tired to care how that happened. A relatively soft spot of sand, surrounded with high grass that gave shelter from the sun was where she laid down her bag and used it as a pillow. Only seconds after she laid down, exhaustion got the better of her, and she gave in to the dark abyss of a deep and dreamless sleep.

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

Grimmauld Place Number 12 was one of the most crowded places in all of Britain. It was a lot louder than all the other four-story buildings in the street – although neither the neighbours nor anyone but its residents were aware of that small piece of trivia. Nearly every room was full of people, bustling about on their daily business. In the kitchen, a few of them were currently preparing lunch, an elderly woman with ginger hair supervising them, while she herself was preparing a sandwich with great care. In another room, some worried looking adults were studying a giant map on a wall, marking some locations with red dots. In the biggest room of Grimmauld Place Number 12 people of all ages were chatting, reading and setting up giant tables for the previously mentioned lunch. One story above that, school-aged children were gathered around a stern looking woman with a high, pointy hat, writing complicated looking diagrams on a blackboard.

A vast majority of the rooms in the Building looked like that. A group of about a handful people pursuing one or another activity together. There were only two rooms that did not follow that rule. One was the Library - quiet and its only occupant a young woman with a lot of bushy brown hair. The other room was located on the first floor. The most noticeable thing about it, was that except for two chairs and a small table, it was completely empty. The Wall opposite the windows was completely black. Tiny inscriptions in various colours gave the whole thing a solemn look. It almost looked like a memorial.

There was a lonely person sitting in front of that wall. Unkempt ash-blond hair, sunken eyes and nearly translucent skin made him look more dead that alive. His blank eyes were staring stonily at a silvery group of words on the black wall, as if he wanted to erase them through sheer willpower.

Narcissa Malfoy (née Black)

Born April 27th 1955

Died October 31st 1998

The young man winced as he heard a soft knock on the door, but didn't bother to look up when that someone let themselves in. A plate with a sandwich on it was placed on the table in front of the ill looking teenager. His refusal to acknowledge both the plate and the new presence in the room would have made the ensuing silence awkward, had the other not exuded this peculiar sort of calming authority.

The tall ginger man sat down in the other chair, also looking at the black wall, though watching another name. Years had taken a hard toll on his appearance, making him look far older than he actually was. A receding hairline, greying hair, together with wrinkles all over his face and deep bags under his eyes however, told only the truth about how much he had to worry about various people.

"What the hell do you want, blood traitor."

The young man spoke first, probably hoping to scare the man away with nasty words, rather than waiting for him to leave on his own.

"Starving yourself won't bring her back, you know."

A flash of anger crossed the youth's features, but his voice remained calm and steady.

"What the fuck do you want?"

A heavy sigh left the older man's lips, a look of sadness in his eyes. He shook his head lightly and glanced at the second occupant of this room.

"For starters, I want you to eat. After that it would be rather nice to see you take care of yourself, Draco."

Draco stubbornly stared at the wall, eyebrows drawn together in a frown. With biting sarcasm in his voice, he answered.

"That won't bring her back either, now, will it?"

Silence reigned the room once again, as the two men stared at the wall, looking at the names of their loved ones as if they were photographs.

"You know, letting yourself go, sounds like an insult to her sacrifice to me. She didn't hide you away from death, just so you could..."

"Stop it."

Draco's voice trembled with unconcealed rage. Fury burned in his eyes as he glared at Mr. Weasley.

"Don't you dare talk about her."

"You should be saying that to you-know-who, if anyon..."

"It was YOU who killed her, Weasley! You turned her away in a moment of vulnerability! You let her walk towards her certain death and did NOTHING!"

He had stood up by now, breathing heavily, and pointed an accusing finger at Mr. Weasley. The older man looked up, still exuding an air of patience and calmness, which only seemed to further enrage Draco.

"It's perfectly okay to be angry. It's not me who is to blame though. Maybe you don't understand yet, maybe you..."

"Don't you tell me I'm too young to understand. My Mother was brutally executed just days ago and you're telling me I'm too immature to understand... any of this?"

"No. I'm telling you it was your mother's choice to put your life before hers, and that you should put her motivations into consideration as well."

"Then why did she not simply safe both of our lives?! It would have been so easy! You should've just let her come with me! One or two more people won't hurt your petty little organization."

"I'm afraid the situation is much more complicated, Draco. Your mother took the dark mark long ago. It doesn't matter if she did it by choice or because she had to. Voldemort could, at any given moment, choose to find about her location. The only ward that could prevent him from getting that vital piece of information, would be the Fidelius charm. We once had one of those protecting this building, but most if its power died with Dumbledore. The rest slowly disintegrated with each second he stayed dead."

"You could've recast the charm. There are a lot of people here. One of them will know how to do it."

"Of course there are people who could cast this charm. Fidelius Flitwick is here, a master in that particular subject, and many other knowledgeable witches and wizards. However, while trying to rebuild such a complicated and draining charm, a huge amount of magical power would inevitably be released. With control over the ministry and basically every magical institution in Britain, you-know-who and his followers would be alerted faster that we could even hope to finish the charm."

"There must've been something you could've done. There's always a way. By letting her go, you personally signed her death sentence!"

"That's not how the world works, and you know it, Draco." Mr. Weasley said, shaking his head sadly.

"I don't need a blood traitor's pity", the blond young man practically spat out

"Young man, I understand you're angry, but please refrain from insulting me. First off, I don't pity you. And from what I understand, you never adopted our father's prejudices. Your mother raised you in a neutral environment, until your aunt was freed, and even then, the more extreme members of your family were rather busy serving You-know-who. Your father did, up until shortly before your arrival, never express any desire to spend more time with you than necessary." Mr Weasley answered, calm as ever, but with a slight hardness underlying his words.

"As if my Father had time to cater to his offspring, when he was busy licking someone else's boots. I am, after all, only his heir." The sarcasm in Draco's voice was sharp as a blade and laced with venom, nevertheless he sounded tired.

"You don't believe in Pureblood superiority." It was more a question than a statement, answered mostly with a sharp, humourless laugh.

"Of course I do. That doesn't mean I want the mudbloods dead. Who'll do the dirty work without them? A pureblood should never be forced to work as a secretary, or even lower. That still doesn't mean I want to rape, torture, and kill anyone who has a different opinion. I find it both distasteful, and beneath me."

Mr Weasley stayed silent, a slightly disgusted look on his face, as he looked at Draco with something akin to despair. It was again the blond youth who filled the silence.

"My Mother brought me here as soon as father first expressed the desire to remove me from her – as he called it – mollycoddling. He said, he planned to finally make me the Malfoy I should be, and not the sissy my mother raised me to be."

"Which would mean taking the mark."

"Which would mean torturing, killing, and doing deeds far beneath the dignity of a Malfoy. I will not kneel and bow for a Maniac of uncertain bloodlines. He may very well not even be a pureblood. I never thought I would say this, but my father is an embarrassment to the Malfoy-line."

Neither of them made an effort to fill the following silence. Finally, after quite some time, Mr. Weasley stood up.

"I know any attempts to change your opinion on blood would probably be in vain, so I won't talk any more of the subject. However, I may send your mother's cousin, Sirius to talk to you. He knows more of the topic than I do."

Draco gave a sound of contempt.

"You're trying to fix me when I'm broken. I should fix you and your disgustingly indifferent attitudes toward tradition, legacy and ancestors."

Arthur quietly made his way to the door, shaking his head lightly.

"You should really eat something. You haven't touched any of your food since you came here. It would make us all happy to see you take care of yourself."

Draco snorted, unbelieving, but otherwise remained quiet.

"You're also allowed to visit the library during daytime."

The young blond nodded, staring blankly at the black wall. The tall man looked at the mere boy on the chair tiredly when he reached the doors. He looked like he wanted to say something, but shook his head instead, closing the wooden door behind him with a muffled thud.

°oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo° °oOo°

Harry woke up at the break of dawn, to the uncomfortable feeling of being watched. Feeling moderately refreshed, but extremely paranoid, he sat up, discreetly taking in his surroundings. When he found himself as blind as a groundhog on a sunny day however, he quickly began looking for his sight-restoring draught. He frowned when he found only one vial, nearly empty. He'd have to find the ingredients to make more.

Yesterday, he remembered, it has taken him every ounce of self-control he possessed to stay awake while Ginny slept until it was her turn to take over the watch. He was glad he had not succumbed to the sweet temptation of sleep, seeing as how sure he was of impending danger now. Who knew what might have happened had they both fallen asleep. Trying to get the remaining heaviness of sleep out of his limbs, he splashed his face with the frigid water of the Anduin River, and took his time quelling his thirst and soothing his dry throat.

When he was done, he turned towards the spot where he thought he'd seen Ginny out of the corner of his eye. Startled, he realized that there was indeed a small fire with the same colours as her hair, but his companion was nowhere in sight, warily, and with a sense of dark foreboding, he approached the flames with great caution. The tiny cauldron they had brought from Mirkwood stood in the midst of ash and pieces of wood.

It had definitely been Ginny who had placed these logs. She had a peculiar way of piling them; he had never seen anyone in middle earth do it like her people had apparently taught her to. The pebbles around the fire made it impossible to discern any footsteps, however closely he looked. Luckily, neither could he see any signs of a struggle. A light green fluid was merrily bubbling about in the miniature cauldron, no stones had been thrown into the fire, and no blackened logs were strewn along the river bank. All in all, the scene looked perfectly normal, except for the lack of Ginny's presence and the uneasy feeling in Harry's gut.

Before he could decide on whether to go looking for her, or to wait and see what would happen, he heard his companion's voice.

"Harry! Over here!"

She was standing between some trees on the other side of the river. Aside from her wet hair, she looked the same as yesterday, when he woke her up.

"Perfectly safe and unharmed." he reminded himself mentally, starting to feel annoyed at his own paranoia. While he waited for her to cross the river again, he wondered if he should ignore his suspicions. His gut was usually right, but that didn't mean there couldn't be any exceptions to that. He sight thoughtfully. It had been so much easier to travel with Estel, who took on most of the decision-making, regarding, well, anything and everything. Having somebody rely on Harry's judgement, rather than the other way 'round, was an unnerving, novel sensation. A cold wind passed over him, reminding him of the fact that it was indeed October. A mild day, compared to the ones they had lived through, but still: They'd have to hurry and get to the next city before the temperatures dropped once and for all to welcome this year's winter. They had yet to cross the mountains at least twice. He shivered at the thought. At least he'd learned how to properly do warming charms.

"Are you not feeling cold?" he asked Ginny when she was within hearing range, while pointing at her wet hair. A shrug accompanied her answer.

"A little. But my scalp gets really itchy when my hair is greasy. I couldn't bear it anymore."

She arrived next to Harry, cautiously smelling the greenish fumes coming out of the cauldron. A pleased grin appeared on her face.

"I've managed to find an adequate substitute for the Griffin claws. The strengthening solution is going to be quite an advantage, I'd say. We won't lose so much time sleeping anymore."

"We won't need to sleep?"

"Of course we'll need to sleep, just not as much as we'd have to without the potion."

A flutter of wings made him look up, only to see a cerbain land on Ginny's shoulder. Harry frowned. This did not bode well with him. His companion however, did not seem fazed at all, merely watching the bird with a mix of curiosity and mild fascination.

"It showed up and watched me work. Not an Animagus though. I'm sure of that. Just a bird. It even helped me find that eagle carcass by sitting on it. I took the claws for the strengthening potion, ground them to a powder and mixed that with some milled feline claws."

Harry watched the bird warily, barely noticing how Ginny absentmindedly stroked two of her fingers. The nails had been cut off so far, they were bloody. He registered all of that only in the back of his mind, focusing on the uneasy feeling in his gut, which had now returned with full force. His own voice sounded strangely foreign and forced to his ears when he spoke.

"I think we should move along; Get going, and reach the next city sooner rather than later."

Ginny halted and looked up at him. If it hadn't been for her calculating gaze, he would've thought she didn't catch his subtle hint.

"Okay," she said simply, her expression didn't change for a second – she was a good actress he decided. The bird took off to watch Ginny from the air when she started to calmly, but quickly collect the few of their belongings she'd been using. Harry packed his backpack alongside her, carefully listening to his environment. He couldn't hear anything suspicious right no, but that could change any moment. It took them only minutes to finally set off, but to Harry it felt like ages.

As they crossed the river, the Cerbain was suddenly nowhere to be seen. Ginny had noticed the disappearance as well.

"What about the bird made you so anxious to leave?"

She, too, seemed a little uneasy. Harry took his time to answer, Carefully arranging the words in his head.

"This particular kind of bird, called the Cerbain, has been known to be used as spies by various enemies of the elves."

Ginny nodded, growing somewhat pale under her freckles. As if on an unspoken agreement, they quickened their pace. Silent and swift, they made their way through the undergrowth between the few trees along the river Anduin.

When Harry first heard it, he thought – no, he didn't think anything, he merely refused to believe it was anything other than a trick of the mind. He had to be imagining the sound, he was sure. His imagination was running wild with paranoia. However, with growing horror, he realized: they were being followed.

The rhythmic beat of a horse running steadily grew louder.

"It's that thing." he heard Ginny's terrified whisper, but Harry didn't even think about asking for asking for clarification. His companion's expression mirrored his own, when he glanced at her. She was staring straight ahead, too horrified to risk seeing what followed them. Very briefly, he wondered why he hadn't noticed the nauseating dark atmosphere, but he didn't allow himself to dwell on it. The only thing on his mind was running.

He was rather sure that he wouldn't survive any kind of violent confrontation wih such old and violated magic. The feeling of it made him feel so sick and weak. The sound of hooves pounding on the soft, damp ground got louder, and louder, until it was almost deafening and Harry could hardly distinguish it from his own heartbeat. The sound of undergrowth being shoved out of the way was now directly behind them.

A monstrous black shadow passed over their heads, as the horse jumped over them with a power and an altitude that it should not have possessed. A wave of pain passed through, Harry, when one of the hooves hit the back of his head. He felt himself falling and distantly heard Ginny's scream.

The black rider was looming over them. Harry fought for consciousness, he heard voices, Ginny's and a foreign, harsh voice that seemed to better fit the unholy tongue of the dark lands. He won the fight against the fog threatening to overtake his mind, and his vision cleared with a sudden ferocity, but it was too late: The blunt end of the rider's sword came down on them, undoubtedly to knock them unconscious. Maybe it wanted to abduct and question them about their magic, which – with it' clearly non-middle-earth origin - shone like a beacon to all users of magic. Maybe it just wanted to take them for fun and torture. Harry neither knew nor cared. All thought stopped when there was an earth shattering crack, and all air seemed to be forced out of Harry's Body as blackness took him. The last thing he felt, was Ginny's death grip on his shoulder.

Thanks for reading, Reviews and Favourites will be very much appreciated :)

mwinter1:

Here you go :)

OnlyBo:

Thank you so much again, for this motivating review! Reckless is what the readers want, reckless is what they'll get ;)

Acolyte of the blood moon:

You spotted her :D Don't be sorry, puns make the world go round. Well I guess you'll fin out?

DanteVirgil09:

Thank you for the nice comment ^-^ Yes, I hope the pacing will pick up a bit, so... faster story, faster chapters I guess ;)

:

Thanks, and yes to both ^^

Bex:

Hehe, creepy is what I was going for, so I'm happy you liked it :)

Spriggan:

Hahaha, that's a brilliant idea, maybe I'll have them do that :'D